Same Auld Lang Syne
by The Bard's Daughter
Summary: It's just another Ministry New Years' Eve ball. With Voldemort moldering in the grave and the Wizarding world quiet for the past four years, what could possibly go wrong?
1. Just Another New Years' Eve

**A/N:** _ Happy New Year! Here is a short, muti-chapter fluffy little story for the start of 2012. The plan is to have it completely posted before I return to work on January 3. I hope you enjoy!_

_As always, reviews are most welcomed and appreciated. And they help fuel the muse, you know._

__**Anti-litigation Charm:**_ I solemnly swear to return the characters intact and a little less worse for wear to the wonderful JK Rowlings and the publishers of the books. I use them for entertainment purposes only._

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><p>CHAPTER ONE<p>

Just Another Auld Lang Syne

He glared at his reflection in the mirror, daring the white slip of silk to argue with his fingers as they transformed it into the perfect wings of the blasted bow tie his new dress robes required. "I still don't know why my old robes wouldn't suffice. They've served me quite well since -"

"Our wedding three and a half years ago," she finished for him. She knew by the twinkling mixture of amusement and reproach she'd finally succeeded in making her tone an immaculate, if somewhat sarcastic representation of his own. She sauntered up to him, using the silvery surface attached to the back of their wardrobe's door to almost lose herself in the fathomless depths of his eyes. "And you've worn them to every formal social occasion since. Including the last three Ministry New Years' balls." Standing behind him, she reached around his broad shoulders and tweaked the tilt of his tie until it was perfectly straight. Merlin, but he grew more handsome with each passing year. "Which is why you needed something new, sweetheart." She brushed a bit of lint from the rich black brocade. "They were beginning to look rather grey."

The flash of impishness in his obsidian orbs sent a delightful shiver slithering toward her toes. "This from the woman who constantly badgers to add a little color to my choice of attire."

He turned with such speed and elegance he had her in his arms cradled against his chest before she could consider escape. Her tiny shriek so delayed, it took up residence in his mouth before it escaped mingled with her soft groan of appreciation at the talent of his teeth and tongue. When he eased away enough for her to see his half-smile, it was all she could do to keep her irritation in place. "I didn't mean a different shade of the same monochrome, Severus." She wiped the smudge of lipstick from his lips with the pad of her thumb. "Besides, they were looking a little threadbare."

"Perhaps that was by design, Hermione." The way he drawled her name was more powerful than any Jelly-Legs jinx. His hands crept along the folds of her deep forest robes until his thumbs brushed the sides of her distended abdomen. "Perhaps it was all a plot to derail tonight's outing." He leaned toward her until her belly pressed against his and his breath caressed the shell of her ear. "Keep you home where we could have our own...private celebration."

She wound her arms around his neck and nuzzled his chin with her nose. "Who says we can't do both." She kissed the edge of his jaw then rested her cheek against his chest. "Though why you'd want to engage in any...amorous activities with a whale in human form -"

His kiss was swift. Gentle yet almost demanding. It was like offering a drink to one staggering into an oasis after days lost in the Saharan sand. When he started to ease away, she followed, her lips bumping his in an erratic rhythm meant to lure him back. Ensnare his senses until he gave into his passion and swept her along with him.

As always, his restraint proved far stronger than hers. With a brush of his lips to each corner of her mouth, he rested his forehead against hers, his breathing much more even than her own ragged consumption of air. "You are beautiful, dear one," he whispered. Palms alternating with fingertips, he caressed the swell protecting their unborn child. "Even more so with our love blooming in your womb." His nose nuzzled her cheek and she was ready to abandon the evening's plans. After all, if Minerva could organize the day-to-day operations of a school the size of Hogwarts, she could surely handle something as insignificant as this annual function. "If I were but able, I would keep your belly filled with my children for decades to come." His lips ghosted against her throat and she all but shattered. "I will desire you always, my dearest witch." He pressed his hips against her, his assurance evident. "Always."

Clinging to him, she whimpered. Tension oozed through the dark silken wool and she instantly regretted the small sound she'd allowed to escape. Although a little more than a month still loomed between tonight and delivery, her husband was anxious. Protective to a point it was almost suffocating despite Healer Muggins' assurances that things were progressing normally in a healthy, uncomplicated and uneventful pregnancy. Not that she blamed the man. After everything he'd been through. Everything he'd lost, she wouldn't have blamed if he'd placed her in a protective cocoon from the moment of conception. After all, if the roles were reversed, that's exactly what she would do. Almost losing him in those first few hours after the final battle and then again at various other periods of his recovery, she understood well the gnawing need to keep the one you treasured beyond all others safe. Regardless of the consequences.

Cupping his face in her hands, she met his worried gaze. Tried to convey everything words never could as she allowed those obsidian depths to fill her mind. "I'm fine, sweetheart." She pecked his lips. "I promise you, I'm just fine."

"Perhaps we should forego the party tonight." All teasing and innuendos vanished as he caught a wisp of hair she'd left unfettered to dangle at her temple and coiled it around his finger. "I'm sure Minerva and the others would understand."

While the idea of staying home instead of trouncing about London and other destinations for the next several hours in a rather constrictive form of dress and heels that were rapidly becoming twin torture devices on her feet held merit - especially if she could coax him back to the amorous man he was mere moments ago - she simply couldn't allow fear to rule their lives. It had done far too much of that in the recent past and she refused to allow it to consume their present or their future. Besides, tonight could very well be their last social outing for some time.

"They would." Agreeing with the potions master was the easiest way to wheedle him around to her side of the argument. "But since she was the one to arrange the Hogwarts Express for the bulk of tonight's activities simply because it keeps me from having to floo or fly, it would be bad form not to show."

Storm clouds gathered over the twin black seas. "Hermione -"

She pressed her lips back to his, swallowing his objection as she urged the passion to return. She grinned when she felt his arms tighten around her, dragging her impossibly close given the layers of fabric and lace separating them. Perhaps she was part Siren after all. "I'm fine, Severus." She trailed her lips along his jaw, his low groan coursing through her like liquid heat. "Minerva has taken precautions should something unexpected happen." She leaned back against his arms, searching and beseeching with gentle sweeps of her eyes across his face. "She has a foolproof plan to get us off the train and to the Infirmary or St. Mungo's should the need arise."

Not even the skilled Occlumens could cover the brooding darkness that crossed his features. "No plan is infallible, love." A tremble of sadness touched his chin. "And if something should happen to you -"

Shaking her head, she pressed her fingers to his lips. "Nothing is going to happen." She blinked away her own tears and offered him the cheekiest smile in her arsenal. "Because Professor." She tweaked his nose. "You simply won't allow it." His shy smile made her heart leap. "Besides." She stepped away from him and smoothed the lapels of his robe. "I want to go. If for no other reason than to drive Parvati, Padma and Lavender stark raving mad with jealousy when I arrive on the arm of the handsomest wizard in attendance."

Severus snorted. "I highly doubt that, Madame Snape." Although the light of amusement faltered in his eyes, he offered his arm, his smile steadfast. "However, I must say the image of making others jealous when I arrive with the most attractive witch of any age on my arm is rather appealing."

The air shifted in the room, becoming thick and melancholy as he studied her. Fear radiated from somewhere deep in his core and penetrated her soul. It had been a number of months since she'd seen him this somber. The night after she presented him with the positive test results from Poppy when she'd noted a smear of blood on her knickers. They'd both panicked until the no-nonsense mediwitch blustered into the room and told them it was normal especially for first pregnancies. That the baby was fine and so was the mother. _'Merlin's beard but you two are as nervous as a Mandrake in a room full of Dugbogs. Gird your loins, children. Parenthood isn't for the faint of heart.'_ And though the woman's words were as effective as a calming draught, it was weeks before Severus smiled again. Nearly a month before anything more than a slight chortle escaped in mirth. She would do anything to keep him from disappearing back into that kind of darkness.

"Promise me we will leave at the first sign of anything, Hermione." His eyes bored into hers, pleading for her compliance. "Promise me."

She touched his cheek, her eyes growing dewy and her smile gentle, warm and full of assurance. "Always, sweetheart. Always."


	2. Traffic Jam

CHAPTER TWO

Traffic Jam

Hermione watched their house in Reigate disappear as Severus maneuvered the car down the lane toward the M25. When the trees and the curve of the road finally swallowed the familiar Edwardian roofline, she felt an overwhelming urge to have him turn around and go back. Give into his protective streak and return to the safety of the red brick walls and one of his well-worn white linen shirts. Snuggle with him on the sofa in front of the oak fireplace in their bedroom and watch the flames dance along the logs until laziness nudged them toward bed where she could cuddle against him as the old year gave way to the new.

Her back muscles tightened almost imperceptibly and she shifted in the seat to ward off any looming cramps. The pull of her childhood home had always been strong, but tonight it was overpowering. It was as if the very foundations had added their plea to the potions master's. Or perhaps she was simply reacting to his apprehension. Allowing his concerns to swamp her because of her deepest desire to prove to him that he wouldn't lose her. Or their little one. Show him it was acceptable to be happy without fearing the universe would somehow demand something precious in repayment. And to do that, she couldn't give in to her own misgivings about tonight. _Gryffindor bravery, don't fail me now._

Warm fingers brushed against the back of her hand, tugging her attention to the man behind the wheel of their black Audi 4. She glanced at him, even with his dark eyes concealed by aviator sunglasses; it wasn't hard to detect the concern etched in the creases near the corners. He offered her the endearing half smile he seemed to reserve just for her. "You know it takes about an hour to get to London. Perhaps longer given traffic this time of day." His thumb traced the contours of her knuckles in delightful, hesitant sweeps. "Why not try to get a little rest."

Turning her hand over, she fitted her fingers into the spaces between his. "Promise not to get us lost?"

"I have you know I have a perfect sense of direction."

Hermione snorted. "On a broom perhaps. Or in the floo system or when apparating. But in an automobile..."

His growl of irritation was lukewarm at best. "Turn the wrong bloody way one time and the woman never lets you forget." He gave her a sidelong glare that quickly dissolved into soft lines of laughter. "Now go to sleep before you distract me and have us ending up in Somerset."

Tightening her grip on his hand, she closed her eyes. For all his bluster about moving into a muggle neighborhood and being forced to use non-magical forms of transportation, he certainly seemed to enjoy himself. And he certainly didn't put up much of a fight when she suggested they make her childhood home their main residence during the summer and holidays once her parents announced they were returning to Australia immediately after the reception and offered the couple the property as a wedding gift. He'd quickly dispensed with his house in Manchester, turned the downstairs servant quarters into a private laboratory, and rapidly acclimated to the world of his childhood. After their first summer, he contacted the Ministry to have the floo in their bedroom connected to the network and informed Minerva she would need to find a new Head of House for the Slytherins and Gryffindors as the Snapes were becoming commuters.

_"It will make it easier should we ever expand the family." His dark eyes danced with hope as he explained his decision. "With you being muggleborn and me a half-blood, there is a slightly higher risk of at least one of our offspring being a squib. And if they are already acquainted with the nonmagical world..."_

Their little one pushed against the inside of her belly. Resting her free hand over the spot, she drew tiny circles over the diminutive hand or foot until the pressure released. He'd researched all the possibilities. Plotted a course for every perceived situation before he ever allowed himself to imagine fatherhood. And your daddy calls me a know-it-all, she thought as the first fingers of slumber eased into her mind. But she wouldn't have him any other way. Especially tonight.

h~s~h~s~h

Severus ran a hand through his neatly clipped black hair and released his exasperation with a soft, slow hiss through his teeth. For a group of humans who possessed the technology to allow for wireless communication and encrypt a million pages of data onto a single sliver of plastic and metal smaller than his thumb, muggles were sorely lacking when it came to moving the masses in an effective manner. Especially during the holiday season.

Easing the car forward another millimeter, he groaned as the silver BMW's brake lights brightened again. He could have flooed to his in-laws and back in the time it would take to move another kilometer at this speed. And should he be able to use the Firebolt hidden in the back of the utility shed or his own ability for broomless flight...

His bride's soft sigh broke the silence inside the car. He turned, contentment flooding his soul to the point all irritation and anger drowned, and watched her sleep. He swept his eyes over her, his heart thundering into overdrive when he saw their little one shift beneath the layers of silk and flesh. Merlin but he was thrice blessed. A second chance. A wife too beautiful for words who loved him with such ferocity it was almost frightening. The best blend of them both growing safely tucked inside her womb. And he would commit every Unforgiveable on the books if he had to just to protect this amazing life of his.

The blare of a hooter somewhere behind him urged his attention back to the traffic around him. Moving another dozen turns of the wheels before the bright red lights blinded him again, he knew a little traffic, a few nosey neighbors and returning to the world of his childhood at the end of the day was a small cost indeed to keep them safe. And he would keep them safe. Come Hell, flood or avalanche. Or die trying.


	3. Avoiding Trouble

CHAPTER THREE

Avoiding Trouble

There was another twinge as Hermione twisted to exit their car. Try as she might, she couldn't manage to keep the grimace from burrowing across her brow or from the slight hitch in her breathing. Before she could blink, Severus was standing between her and the opened passenger door, his face contorted into a scowl of concern. Forcing the furrows from her brow and pushing an assuring smile to her lips, she touched his arm. "Just sat for too long, sweetheart. Stop worrying."

Although his frown softened into the neutral lines of a master Occlumens, his black eyes were plumbed to the depths with worry. "It's not too late to return home, love." He squatted in the small space between the door and the Audi's grey interior. "Perhaps let you walk around for a bit then -"

She brushed his cheek as she swept away the fringes of dark hair that threatened to fall into his eyes. "I'm fine, Severus." Carefully not to kick him as she moved her feet from the foot well to the ground between his, she managed to move him back enough to exit the restrictive passenger compartment. She wobbled slightly but, with his arm as leverage, she regained her balance. "Besides, we are here now. No sense getting back into that chaos." She nodded toward the tangle of automobiles clogging the street.

"We could always -"

Taking his hand, she squeezed gently then entwined their fingers. "We could. But I don't want to." With a small tug, she started him toward the hidden entryway that allowed them access to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters without having to go through the public barrier. "It's just the annual Ministry New Years' Eve ball, Severus. What could possibly go wrong?"

Far too much, his traitorous mind whispered. Voldemort may be more than five years vanquished - the remnants of the Death Eaters moldering in Azkaban. But there were still those out there who resented his redemption. Envied his bride for her intellect and skill. Witches and wizards who would like nothing more than to shake them both from a perceived pedestal they never intended to be placed upon. Then there was the sullen weather itself to consider. Northern Scotland's skies could be irritable enough in the best of seasons. Given the severity of the winter...

"Ah. There you are." Although Lucius had declared his loyalty to the Light and served his two years-long sentence in Azkaban without so much as a whimper, Severus was wary of the man. He'd seen too much of the arrogant wizard's manipulations to ever put much faith in any last minute conversion. "May I say you are looking particularly stunning tonight, Madame Snape." He took her hand and drew it to his lips, oblivious to the slight shiver of disgust.

The way Malfoy's icy grey eyes danced over Hermione, lust flaring as they devoured the soft curves hinted at by the folds of dark green fabric sparked the possessiveness Severus fought so hard to conceal when in the presence of all but a select few. Abandoning his wife's hand for her waist, he pulled her close. Enveloped her as much as humanly possible as he tried to hide her away from the pureblood's smug gaze.

Thankfully, his spitfire of a bride accepted his need to quell her independence for the moment. He could feel her mistrust building on his own. "Thank you, Lord Malfoy." The words might have been meant for the wizard in the silver robes, but her eyes were riveted to his own, undulating with enough adoration and love to call the stability of his knees into question. "Severus picked them out for me. And I think he did a splendid job."

"Indeed." Lucius' nostrils flared for a moment, the disdain fleeting but present in the chilly blue depths. "Then allow me to congratulate you on your taste in witch's fashion, Professor."

Although he abhorred male posturing, Severus would make an exception for the Slytherin poster boy. Curling his lips in his best personification of smugness, he glowered at his rival. "No congratulations are required, Lucius." He danced his eyes over his wife, desire swirling into a minor storm somewhere in his core. "When one knows one's bondmate with the level of intimacy I'm blessed to share with Hermione." He slid his thumb along the side of her belly, loving the bloom of color on her cheeks while praying she didn't skewer him with the nearest sharp object once they were safely ensconced in the private rail carriage Minerva promised to provide for Hermione's comfort. "Perfection of choice is the expected outcome."

"Yes."

The green smear tinting Lucius' impeccable drawl was worth whatever punishment the Gryffindor beauty might exact. The pompous sycophant twisted his neck in an almost reptilian-like manner reminiscent of his former master, making Severus' hair stand uncomfortably along his neck and the jagged scar pinch. Ever attuned to his mood, Hermione slipped her hand beneath his traveling cloak and pressed soothing fingers into the hollow of his spine. Perhaps she wasn't as upset with his actions as he feared.

"If only we all could be so..._lucky_." The trademark Malfoy purr dripped with contempt urging Severus to tighten his grip on his wife. Steel eyes darted from side to side until the braggart found his escape in some other unsuspecting quarry in the gathering crowd of officials and other members of the elite. "Now. If you will excuse me, I believe the Ministers have arrived." With a stiff nod, he strode toward the other side of the car park and the line of government issued black Bentleys.

Relief spread through him like a tumbler of aged Ogden's. Not giving Hermione a chance to protest or berate him within the considerable range of hearing all Malfoys seemed in possession of, he led her toward the privacy of the deserted entryway. Only when they were safely within the shadows did he turn, the apology rising to his eyes more quickly than the words could line up on his tongue. "Hermione. I'm -"

Familiar, luscious and warm lips pressed against his, stealing his words as she eased her tongue into the gap the unvoiced syllables left. Leaning against the chilly brick wall for support, he pulled her close. Silenced the nagging voice that urged him to keep his passions masked from the public eye and transformed her tender exploration into heated plunder. When the necessity to breathe nudged them apart, he rested his head against her and drew in the intoxicating fragrant blend of orange blossoms, vanilla and essence of Granger. "Dear one -"

Her fingers pressed against his mouth. "Don't apologize, Severus." Golden brown eyes twinkled up at him. "While I might insist on independence in certain aspects of life, when it comes to you, I am a willing slave." She snuggled back into his embrace, their child stirring between them. "I want the world to know that I belong to you, sweetheart. Heart, mind, body and soul." Her lips quirked into a tiny imitation of his smirk. "As long as you allow me to return the favor."

"Always, darling." He feathered his lips against her temple, his heart expanding painfully against the confines of his chest. "Always.


	4. Best Laid Plans

CHAPTER FOUR

Best Laid Plans

Hermione hummed in appreciation, as Severus' fingers pressed on the tightened muscles in her lower back in perfect rhythm to the foxtrot. According to the last report from the driver, they were approaching the tunnel marking the halfway point in their journey. Right on schedule. As if time itself would dare to foil Minerva McGonagall's best laid plans.

Resting her chin on her husband's shoulder, she felt him tense. With the music and the intimacy of the minuscule dance floor, she'd forgotten anyone else existed. Permitted herself to get caught up in the feel of being in his arms without thinking of his reluctance to allow others a glimpse into his private life. She was just about to ease back to a more acceptable position when he tugged her closer still, his muscles relaxed and fluid as he led her in the meandering dance.

Satisfied she was causing him no discomfort; she turned her attention to the magically expanded compartment. Bronze scones paired together at strategic points along the wall, the flickering light illuminating without disturbing the romance of the burnished wood and heavy burgundy carpets. An alcove had formed in the corner near the dance floor for the musicians. The bar on the other end of the carriage seemed to hardly accommodate the attendant and the multitude of beverages, yet each witch, wizard or muggle dignitary that approached found an empty stool or vacant gap in which to stand and order. The gaming area in the corner opposite also seemed to shrink and expand given the need. As a whole, the rarely used car meant to house no more than twenty sheltered over three times as many without sacrificing anyone's personal space with a few extra square feet to spare.

Another catch in the small of her back seemed to radiate along the sides of her belly as if her navel were pulling the strings. Without asking, Severus set his fingers to work. If it weren't for the fact he'd vowed never to use Legilimency without her approval, she'd think he was quietly stalking the recesses of her mind. Then again, if he were there, he would already be aware the discomfort was becoming alarmingly stronger and growing more regular. Careful not to reveal the building distress, she turned the moan of relief into another slightly off-key hum. They were so close to Hogwarts now, there really was little reason to add to his recent perpetual state of worry. Besides, it was just the rigors of the drive combined with the hours she'd spent playing hostess. Right?

With the pain eased, Hermione returned her attention to their fellow revelers. While the magic of the Express was awe-inspiring in and of itself, the confluence of people mingling across societal and ethnic lines was something for which the English language held no descriptors. The muggle Prime Minister and his lovely bride talked with Professor Flitwick as if the diminutive charms master hadn't spelled the carnation in his lapel to change colors as rapidly as a fireworks display. Minister Shacklebolt and Hagrid were seated at the end of the bar, the former laughing heartily at whatever tale the half-giant was spinning. Lucius and two other gentlemen she wasn't familiar with were seated at a table with Ron, their current Primero game garnering the interest of both wives and some of the more scantily dressed of her peers. Lavender Brown among them

_Ron and Lavender._ Whatever jealousy she might have felt during Sixth Year quickly waned when she admitted she would never feel anything more than sisterly love toward her ginger haired friend. Then it dissolved completely when Severus Snape opened his eyes after nearly a three weeklong coma and smiled at her. Now all she felt, when she felt anything at all for her former beau and his occasional lover was pity.

How could she not when she knew the blonde dunderhead was only being used as an outlet for Ron's more carnal urges just like she had been when they were in school? And the _Playwizard_ model was either too blind or too naive to see it. To understand until Ron let go of the anger and resentment he carried since the end of the war, he could never be the hero she wanted him to be.

Hermione sighed as the currently suspended auror and self-proclaimed Quidditch star - who was yet to be drafted by even the most minor league team - threw his cards down onto the table with a snarl. It seemed as if the toll of the hunt for the Horcruxes and the devastation of Fred's death had stripped him of his gentleness and humor. Twisted him until he bore no emotional resemblance to the elven year old with the smudge of dirt on his nose she'd met the first time she stepped foot on this very train.

The sound of familiar laughter shifted her focus from the melancholy. Draco, Ginny, Harry and Luna were sequestered away at one of the more secluded tables enjoying the remnants of the heavy hors d'oeuvres served to tide the guests over until the midnight meal in the Great Hall. Of course, should there be a delay, Minerva had commandeered some of the Hogwarts' house elves and converted one of the unused private compartments into a kitchen equipped to serve a seven course meal. So the persistently hungry men had little to worry about.

What appeared to be a good-natured squabble over the last canapé resulted in both wizards glaring at the petite blonde witch who looked angelically innocent as she chewed. Once she finished, she leaned over and pressed her lips to those of the Boy Who Vanquished Voldemort. He quickly reciprocated. Not to be out done, the pretty redhead engaged her blonde wizard in a rather passionate snog. Merlin but each was well suited to their chosen mate. Just as she was to hers.

Following her friends' lead, she touched her lips to Serverus' cheek then brushed them to first one corner of his upturned mouth then the other. She was mere millimeters from claiming them properly when the music stopped and propriety urged them apart. She started to join the applause when she found her hands captured. Looking into those glistening ebony depths, the world faded away. He raised her knuckles to his lips and tenderly branded them with the velvety softness. "My dearest one," he whispered.

His gentleness combined with another sharp pinch somewhere deep in the muscles of her back to fill her eyes with tears. "Severus."

They moved together as if following a silent command. Followed the familiar route to a perfected kiss. Once connected, she refused to yield. Chasing after him until he moved beyond the boundary set by her swollen belly. Her groan was answered by a soft chuckle then a silken baritone as rich as chocolate. "Let's go join the Potters and the younger Malfoys, shall we."

To Severus' secret delight, Hermione accepted his arm, settling her hand into the perfect cradle of his elbow. While he knew she was trying to hide it from him, it didn't take a master Legilimens to notice her growing discomfort. He prayed they were just the Braxton-Hicks Healer Muggins warned them about.

Steering her through the groups of gossiping guests, he started to suggest they flee the celebration early. Nudge her into confessing something was amiss. Remind her of her promise from earlier. But his little Gryffindor was much too stubborn for such things. He would simply have to accept she would tell him when she was ready to admit defeat and take one of Minerva's emergency exits. After all, she'd never intentionally broken a vow. He just hoped she wouldn't start now.

As they approached the table, both young Malfoy and Potter stood and bowed slightly. The boy had certainly come a long way since his introduction to the Wizarding world. Maturity had made him calmer. Less brazen. And much more like his mother than Severus first thought. He bowed to the two young men and their respective spouses then held the chair for his own bride.

Once they settled into their chairs, Harry spoke. "So what do you think about this year's festivities?"

Yawning for emphasis, Severus avoided his witch's glare. "It's the same Auld Lang Syne as always."

Harry's green eyes twinkled. "That's what you said four years ago." He glanced at Draco and winked. "Until Minerva locked you and Hermione in the broom cupboard off the main hall."

"By midnight you two had certainly broken the status quo," Draco drawled.

"Broken it?" Ginny's giggle reminded him of Molly at her age. "They had absolutely demolished it."

"Thanks to the whirligigs that reside in such places." Luna's voice belied the dreaminess in her blue eyes. "Or was it the charm I placed on the lock to keep these two from blasting out before they finished their long overdue discussion."

Severus smirked at his former students and briefly wondered when they morphed into such good friends. _Probably when you decided to take Minerva's advice and started living life like you deserved to survive_. "And if you all remember, Hermione and I were so grateful for that New Years' Eve intervention, we returned the favor the very next year."

Harry wrapped his arm around Luna's shoulders. "A coup Draco and I will be forever grateful for." He glanced over his shoulder at the Hogwarts' headmistress. "Now if we could only repay the favor."

An old ache startled awake in Severus' chest. "I'm afraid that isn't possible." The words came out flavored with more melancholy than he intended. "She found the other half of her soul years ago. Now she's simply biding her time until they can be united beyond the veil." He watched his old friend, poised and graceful as always; work her brand of political magic on one of the school's governors. "To urge her to find another would simply be -"

Hermione's elbow bounced against his ribs. "Severus." She nodded toward the table of gamblers. "I think things are about to turn ugly."

Following her gaze, he noticed young Weasley's reddening face and Lucius' malevolent grin. Before he could react, Weasley's wand was drawn and pointed between the former Death Eater's eyes.

"Damn." With more speed than he'd employed since the end of the war, he rose; Draco and Potter on his heels. Spinning back toward his wife, he issued a soft warning. "Stay here with Ginerva and Luna, love."

Assured by her wide brown eyes and quick nod, he rushed to try and rescue the redheaded menace yet again.

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><p><em>I intended to complete this story today. However, more unexpected interferences than anticipated occurred. There will be one, perhaps two more chapters posted hopefully before tomorrow ends.<em>

_Thanks to all of you who are reading! I hope you continue to enjoy this little New Years' Eve tale._


	5. Mudslides And Contractions

**A/N:** _Thank you to all those who are reading! I am grateful for the story alert, author alerts and reviews. We are almost at the end of this little tale. I hope you enjoy and that the confrontation doesn't disappoint. (I'm always a little nervous when writing scenes such as this, hoping they don't turn out too comical or cliched.)_

_For anyone who may be confused about the setting for the party...The party starts on the Hogwarts Express and is scheduled to continue in the castle's Great Hall_

**Disclaimer:**_ Don't own 'em. Just play with 'em on occasion._

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><p>CHAPTER FIVE<p>

Mudslides and Contractions

"You're a cheat, Malfoy."

The words slithered through clenched teeth filling the surrounding air with the sickeningly sweet odor of metabolizing grain whiskey and something far more potent. It was all Severus could do to appear unaffected by the stench as he and his compatriots drew close enough to intervene.

Ron swayed on his feet, his obvious intoxication having little effect on either his words or Lucius' reaction. Although Severus himself had very little use for such ignorant abuse of intoxicants, he did have enough compassion to defuse a situation in which the rival was beyond the point if stupidity. But by Merlin, Lucius would never consider backing down. Instead, he egged it on just as he always had. Prodding at the redhead like a fool poked at a snake - practically begging him to strike.

"How like your father you are, Mr. Weasley." Despite the presence of the younger wizard's wand against his brow, Lucius rose, the slender chestnut blade sliding down to the center of his chest. "Both of you are presumptuous fools with little regard for those towering above your social standing." He sneered, his hands visibly tightening on the cane that concealed his own ebony wood epee. "And both with a seemingly inherited repulsion for success." He narrowed his eyes, the grey-blue irises flashing with contained rage. "Or at least that is what one must assume given your recent...descent into disgrace."

Pity welled for the disillusioned young wizard. While he wasn't raised as part of the upper echelon of their society, he retained a dominant bit of the pureblood vanity. A certain contempt for those he viewed as beneath him. But without the money to back it up, such traits often proved a deathblow for prosperity. His arrogance had seemingly cost him the gift-wrapped position among the ranks of the Aurors. His inability to see his own faults kept him from gaining the competencies he needed to make it as a professional Quidditch player. Severus shook his head. Such a waste of potential

And the boy had potential. Although Weasley lacked Hermione's brilliance or Potter's innate compassion, he had an uncanny ability to analyze and strategize. It was what made him the best bloody chess player since Albus Dumbledore. He could have been as successful as his brother George if he'd but control his anger and put forth a little effort.

The tip of Ron's wand trembled slightly, though whether from his tight grip on the intricately carved hilt or as an effect of the sundry and various substances the former hero reportedly consumed, Severus didn't know. "I...am...nothing...like...my...father."

The other guests who, until those words echoed off the wainscoting had paid very little attention to the potential altercation, grew silent. Tension coiled, undulating like a cobra preparing to spread its hood. Harry and Draco, wands drawn, started to step forward. With a slight shake of his head, Severus held them at bay. Although his own wand was clutched in his fist, it was best not to interfere until no other recourse remained. If one or both of the potential duelist were swayed to bring an end to this before the hexes flew, then neither would have to be detained by the Hit-Wizards Gawain Robards assigned to the evening's celebration. And neither would face time in Azkaban. If he could somehow diffuse the situation...

"You're right, Ronald."

Severus closed his eyes and prayed to the Creator of both magical and non-magical that the owner of the delicate alto wasn't as close as she sounded. He could all but hear the universe sigh with resignation and whispered an 'as if she's ever stayed put when ordered' in his ear when familiar, delicate fingers clutched the sleeve of his robe. He scowled at her, but the determination and unvoiced request not to reprimand in those sparkling chocolate eyes softened the furrows in his brow. With a not quite curt nod, he bade her continue, stepping between her and the contenders to shield her as much as possible should her words fall on anger-deafened ears.

"You aren't your father." She fisted his robes more tightly and he eased his hand to the small of her back, ready to protect but urging her to continue. After all, if there was anyone in the room who might calm the boy's anger, it was this witch. His witch. "You aren't kind. Or generous. Or loving."

It took all of his skill as a master Occlumens to keep surprise from registering in his features. With a gentle nudge, Severus used their marriage bonds to ease into his bride's mind. _Are you sure this is the correct tack, love? To antagonize -_

Her reply was gentle, lacking any irritation at him for being in her mind with her. He could feel her gratefulness for the intrusion. The appreciation of his added strength. _Trust me, sweetheart_.

So he did. Wholeheartedly. _Always, my dear one. Always_, he whispered then tenderly extracted himself from inside her head.

"At least not like you once were."

Ron's eyes wavered between the witch behind him and the wizard before him. The battle becoming visible in the creases lining his face. "What are you talking about? I'm the same bloke you -"

"But you aren't, Ronald." Hermione's voice was calm but confident. Her tone mesmerizing but warning against argument. "Not like you were before. You lost something more than your innocence on that battlefield, Ron."

"You lost yourself." Severus almost collapsed with relief when Harry added his words to Hermione's, taking their friend's focus onto himself as he stepped closer. Placing himself in the gap once again. "You lost a piece of your soul. But it isn't too late to go back and find it again."

"Says the great and powerful Harry Potter." Although hatred still swirled in Weasley's blue eyes, he was beginning to falter. Beginning to hear despite his attempts to remain deaf to anything but his anger. "And just what would you know about it, mate. You with your perfect wife. Your perfect job. Your bloody perfect life!"

The redhead swung around, his wand mere inches from the bridge of Potter's wire-rimmed glasses. "How dare you speak about what was lost during the fight with Voldemort. Did you lose your brother? Did you leave your home just so you wouldn't have to listen to your mother's tears night after night? Did you wake up one morning and find your own sister married to the enemy? No, you woke up a friggin' hero."

Severus pushed Hermione behind him as the Weasley spawn shifted his attention back to her. He could see the end of the wood start to glow. He tightened his grip on his own wand, _Expelliarmus _silently forming in his mouth.

"And you," Ron spat.

The wild eyes of a caged lion didn't threaten the destruction his ice water blue ones did. In that moment, Severus wished desperately apparation were an option to remove his heavily pregnant bride from this dangerous creature.

"How can you stand there judging me when you're carrying the spawn of the bastard who-"

An unnerving screech of brakes and the carriage lurched, unbalancing the young Weasley long enough for Harry and Draco to pounce. While the car rocked and the irritating sound of nails on chalkboard continued to echo off the rock walls of the tunnel the train must have entered during the altercation, the three men tumbled onto the floor, arms and legs flailing as they struggled for the upper hand. By the time the Express came to a stop, Harry had Ron's wand and Draco had pinned his father to the chair with a silent sticking charm, the older man's unsheathed wand lying among the discarded pile of chips and playing cards on the table.

Harry offered his former potions master a cheeky grin as he handed Ron off to one of the Aurors on duty. "What was that you were saying about this being the same Auld Lang Syne, Severus?"

He rolled his eyes at the boy he now claimed as friend. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter." A small smile, a quick nod of thanks and he turned his attention to his wife who had grown much too quiet in the last few seconds. "Hermione?"

Her grip on his arm suddenly tightened, her eyes wide and filled with fear. "Severus," she whispered barely above din around them, her eyes going to the growing puddle on the floor beneath her feet.


	6. Anything But The Same Auld Lang Syne

CHAPTER SIX

Anything But The Same Auld Lang Syne

Severus' eyes shifted from the puddle to Hermione's and back again. "Are you..." He swallowed, his throat constricted to the point of near paralysis. "Is that..."

His love nodded. "I thought it was just muscle cramps from the car ride." Tears bubbled in her eyes. "If I had once thought they were -"

Her fingers dug into the fabric of his sleeve as she bent slightly. Breath escaped through the minuscule space between her clenched teeth. An eternity passed in the thirty seconds it took for Hermione's fingers to relax against his arm. She straightened, her eyes a bright wash of tears, fear and remorse. "I'm so sorry, Severus. If I had any idea that this was happening -"

Cupping her face, he brushed away the tears with his thumb. "I know, love." He pressed his lips to hers, wrapping all his devotion in the brief touch. "I know." He wrapped a wisp of honey gold hair around his finger, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the silken strands as he tried to quell the rising panic. "What say we -"

Again her fingers were vice-like against his arm, her eyes shuttered from him by the tightly closed and squinted lids. It hadn't been more than two minutes since...His heart dropped to somewhere in the vicinity of his toes as he frantically searched through the data he'd gathered with each article and book they had read in preparation for this moment. An unsolicited command whirled on his tongue and fell from his lips without actually registering in his brain. "Breathe, darling." He pressed his cheek to her temple and prayed to whomever was listening to protect her and their child. "Just breathe."

"Severus."

The familiar Scottish brogue nudged a thread of relief toward him. Hadn't his bride assured him the headmistress was prepared for any eventuality? "Don't worry, love," he whispered into the curly mop of hair he so adored. "Everything will be fine."

With the contraction easing, Hermione's lips curled into a soft smile. "Of course it will be." Confident sepia eyes bored into his, filling him with the kind of assurance only his little Gryffindor could offer. "You simply won't allow it to be any other way."

Humbled once more by the blind faith in him his bride seemed to possess, he wrapped her in his arms and held her close. "I'll do my best, dear one." He kissed the top of her head. "But for now -"

"Severus!" Minerva bustled through the crowd, her normally unflappable expression forfeited by the disquiet in her blue eyes. She was nearly breathless by the time she reached him. "I'm afraid I need your assistance. There's been a bit of a catastrophe, you see -" She gasped when Hermione's state finally registered. "Oh Merlin." She blinked, her head pivoting from one to the other as if she were watching a bloody tennis match. "My dear, are you-"

A quiet moan, a slight contortion of Hermione's features and a clawing grip on the lapels of Severus' robes was the only answer given until he could find his voice. "She is, Minerva. And from the frequency and severity of the pains, I think it best if we use one of those delightful little escape routes you planned for us tonight."

The former Transfiguration mistress' face blanched. "I'm afraid that won't be possible, Severus." She started tugging on her fingers. "You see there has been a mudslide on the northern end of the tunnel." She blinked, the color slowly returning to her cheeks. "Thus the reason for the rather forceful stop. I was coming to ask if - " She glanced back at Hermione, her features falling again. "But I can see now is not the time."

Despite the surge of icy panic, Severus couldn't help but roll his eyes at his colleague's stellar observation skills. "What does that have to do with removing Hermione to Hogwarts' infirmary or St. Mungo's?"

The woman's throat moved visibly as she swallowed. "You must remember this is an enchanted mountain range, lad. The charms I placed to help evacuate you both should the need arise simply won't work as long as we are in this tunnel." Her shrug left him feeling as helpless the moment in the Shrieking Shack when he realized the Dark Lord's intended reward for his service. "So until the debris is removed and the train can continue..."

Hermione clutched his robes again, rocking against him in what was most probably a vain attempt to ease her discomfort. "Severus."

Her voice broke and he knew she was struggling not to whine. Her damnable Gryffindor pride refusing to allow her to complain despite the fact their little one was clambering for escape. "Breathe, love." He closed his eyes and took a little of his own advice, drawing in a chest full of orange blossoms and vanilla then expelling it in perfect rhythm with his wife's. "We'll think of something. But first." As he felt her grip on his lessen, he swept her into his arms. Ignoring the gasps of surprise from those around him and his own self-consciousness, he waded into the crowd. Witches and wizards parted along the aisle as if he were Moses and they the Red Sea. "Let's get you into our compartment, shall we?" He offered her the brightest smile he could muster. "Make you as comfortable as possible until we can get you to a proper facility."

Vaguely aware of the footsteps behind them, Severus didn't slow until they were clear of the other revelers with the door to the carriage shut firmly behind them. There was no need to turn around to see who their companions were. Without breaking stride, he called to them. "Harry. Draco." The young wizards and their wives quickly occupied the space on either side of him. "Go and see what can be done about getting us underway again." Somewhere along the way, panic had morphed into the kind of adrenaline rush he relied on to clear his mind and allow experience to provide the answers. "Ginerva, you and Luna go down to the dining car and inform the house elves we may need them to provide additional sustenance should magical attempts to free the train dissolve into feeble muggle ones."

Although prone to dawdling when following a directive as students, the quartet darted into action. By the time he and Hermione reached their compartment, only Minerva remained at his heels. Before he issued her orders, he flicked his hand, wordlessly bidding the wards to fall and the door to open. Another wave and the smallish bed enlarged, the room adjusting in response. Carefully, he settled his beloved on the push emerald and gold duvet. Nudging his bride's hands from the row of buttons closing the back of her dress robes, he pushed the delicate circles through the openings.

"Severus."

The hiss of his name as he felt her back muscles tense beneath his hands allowed the panic to surface again in a heated rush. Without looking at the woman standing at the door, he barked. "Go find Poppy."

Turning back to the task of undressing his laboring wife, he was to the last button before he realized the swish of robes and the click of retreating heels didn't meet his ear. _If Harry bloody Potter can follow orders_...He glared over his shoulder at his colleague and supervisor. "Are you deaf woman? Go find Poppy."

Minerva's face grew ashen again, tears pooling in her eyes as she looked between Severus and her Gryffindor cub. "She isn't here, Severus." She hadn't appeared in this much anguish since Albus' memorial service. "No healer is."


	7. His Greatest Treasures In Jeopardy

CHAPTER SEVEN

His Greatest Treasures In Jeopardy

He couldn't breathe. Couldn't drag air into his lungs if Voldemort returned from the dead and held him at wand point threatening to _Avada_ him. "What?"

Minerva twisted this way and that, wringing her hands. Had she the space, Severus was sure she would be pacing with the energy of a witch half her age. "She isn't here. There was an unexpected outbreak of Dragon Pox among the students remaining at school for the holidays. As for any others..." She looked at him, her blue eyes awash in apology and sorrow. "There simply wasn't enough room on the invitation list by the time -"

For the first time since he realized the woman who held his heart so gently within hers was in the laboring throes of childbirth, he turned his focus to another. Anger seethed through him with a burn as painful as that of the Dark Mark before its creator fell and the image disintegrated no longer mottling his skin. Easing away from his bride, he stood with arms crossed less his fury trigger stupidity. He glowered at the woman he cherished as friend, mentor and colleague. "I don't give a damn about your bloody invitation list. Or the outbreak. Or if Flitwick bored the poor Prime Minister to an early grave with his philosophy on how electricity was actually a charm gone haywire."

He stepped closer, the pounding in his ears loud enough to drown any attempted interruption by either witch. "The only thing in this whole world I care about. The greatest treasures I have in this world or the next." His voice cracked and he couldn't quite contain the shuddering breath he drew to try and regain control. "Are right there." He jabbed his finger toward the reason his heart continued to beat. "On that bed. And I don't care if we have to back this creaking heap of iron rubbish all the way back to bloomin' London. I want you to get us the hell out of here." He allowed the final syllable to explode in a menacing whisper. "Now."

Hogwarts headmistress straightened, the guilt still glowing in her eyes despite the ire burnishing her cheeks with color. "You know as well as I do the train only moves in one direction, Severus. And even if we could somehow reverse the direction, the tracks vanish within seconds of it passing. There is simply no way -"

"What part of 'I don't care' do you not understand, Minerva?" His eyebrow arched almost of its own accord. "Now you will find a way or -"

He started toward her but found he couldn't move farther than the end of the bed. Turning, he found Hermione clutching the hem of his robes. While the pain still danced in her eyes, there was a calmness in the golden depths. A surety and strength in her gaze that urged his own confidence upward from the vicinity of his toes. "Sweetheart." Her lips wobbled into a smile despite the tears spilling down her cheeks. "We can do this."

Not for the first time, the weight of her words pushed against his shoulders. "Hermione." He moved back to her side and eased down onto the mattress. "I'm a teacher. A potions master, not a -"

She cocked her head a slightly bemused light igniting in her eyes. "A potions master who spent part of his apprenticeship in a maternity ward brewing and administering potions when required."

As always, she had a point. Not that he would admit it. Or even acknowledge it. Not when it was his beautiful witch... His eyes burned and he drew a deep breath, running his hand down his face and closing his them to shutter the emotion from her. "That was a lifetime ago, love. With women I wasn't even truly acquainted with. But this..." He opened his eyes. Allowed her to see his fears if she wished to look. "I can't." The bright belief in him dancing in those cinnamon orbs dashed his resolve to keep tight rein on his feelings. Tears dimmed his vision. His shoulders shook. Embarrassment turned him away from her probing eyes. "If something should go wrong. If something were to happen to you or the..." His voice fled. His chest heaved in racking sobs. "I can't"

Warm fingers wrapped around his fist. The sweep of her thumb against his knuckles loosening the tendons' tight hold. "Severus." He turned further, slamming his eyelids closed until he felt her touch against his chin. Gently tugging. Silently nudging. "Severus."

Beseeching. Commanding. Calm. Her sweet alto seemed to weave its very threads into his heart. He could never deny her anything. Even at the risk of his own humiliation. Betrayed by this damnable love she filled him with, he gave in. Opened his eyes and clung to the sliver of hope he found in hers. "You can do this."

Shaking his head, he started to turn away once more but her gaze held firm. Like always, her patience urged the hidden dread up and out of his throat. "What if I can't?"

There was that smile again. Part smirk, part timid assurance. "With you there is no can't, sweetheart." She traced the fringes of his hair until she touched the shell of his ear and he shivered. "Besides." She turned his hand over, her fingertips following the lines of his palm. "Shouldn't the first hands to touch our child be the strong, gentle hands of the man who helped create her?"

There was simply no arguing with her reasoning. His sigh tamped down the uncertainty and pushed a small grin to his lips. "It could be a him, you know."

Her eyes brimmed again but her smile held fast. "So it could." She nudged his shoulder with hers. "And you'll be the first to know."

Another deep breath and he swallowed his Slytherin pride. The bitterness burned his throat as he turned to his friend. "Minerva, please go tell Ginerva and Luna to have the house elves boil plenty of water. Have them collect as many fresh linens as they can find. Once you've delivered their orders, come back here." He captured the old witch's eyes and held tight. "I'm going to need your help."


	8. Welcome To The World Baby

**A/N:** _This was intended to be the last chapter of this little tale. But the length dictated breaking it into two. That means one more to go! Again, thank you so much for the reviews and the alerts. They are always greatly appreciated and definitely ignite the fire needed to keep the story flowing from the pen._

__**Disclaimer:** _Still don't own 'em._

* * *

><p>CHAPTER EIGHT<p>

Welcome To The World Baby...

The silent threat to hex his headmistress into the next century lost its edge the second his bride added her sweet giggle to Minerva's sidesplitting laughter. Glowering at both of them, he refused to allow his pout to manifest on his features. His witch unmanned him enough with her sweet words of encouragement and her blind faith. He'd be damned it he let either of them see just how unSlytherinlike he'd become in the last five minutes. "What is so bloody funny?"

Minerva choked, coughing her reply between the annoying titters that often followed such outbreaks of hilarity. "Severus Snape." She chuckled loudly for a moment then quieted again, reaching for the ever-present bit of tartan plaid tucked into the sleeve of her robe. Dabbing her eyes, her shoulders jerked with amusement once more before falling silent. "Are you or are you not one of the greatest wizards of your age?"

He scowled. "So I have been told."

"And are you in possession of your wand?"

"Minerva," he huffed. "You know very well any wizard worth his education is either in possession of or in close proximity to his wand at all times. Now what the devil are you -"

She held up her hand, silencing him as effectively as she did when he was her student. He felt his manliness take another short nosedive. "Then do the words _Accio, Scorgify_ and _Linteum Verto_ hold any meaning for you?"

Severus rolled his eyes, feeling a right dunderhead. "Point taken, Madame." He nodded toward his wife's partially exposed back. "Think you can see to that seeing as I've got - "

Hermione's laugh was cut short by a very soft 'ouch'. She clutched his arm and closed her eyes. Severus ticked off the seconds until her grip relaxed and her eyelids fluttered open. Somehow she still managed a soft smile. Though it lacked the usual spark and faded almost as quickly as it appeared. "That was a bit sharp. I think we may actually be getting somewhere."

Ignoring the older woman's rather unladylike snort, he took his wife's hand. "We really do need to get you out of those robes, love." He unsheathed his wand and pointed it at her, his unsteadiness evident in the slight tremor.

"Oh for Merlin's sake." Minerva bustled over, gave him a pointed glare, shoved his hand aside and pointed her own wand at the laboring girl. "_Divesto_." She tossed her stern teacher look at him over her shoulder. "You can't very well deliver this baby dressed like that, Severus. And those shaking hands won't do you much good either." She nodded toward the door separating the small water closet from the rest of the compartment. "Go in there and change into something less...stuffy. Then pull yourself together man. You're about to be a father."

h~s~h~s~h

Hermione moaned as another contraction seemingly tightened every muscle in her body. Thank God Minerva had the wherewithal to cast a stabilizing charm on the carriage once the train started moving again. "And I thought _Crucio _was bad," she hissed.

"You're doing great, sweetheart," Severus breathed against her ear, tightening his fingers around hers as they relaxed. He mopped the moisture from her brow with the hand towel Minerva _accioed_ from one of the linen cupboards. "I know it hurts but -

"You know it hurts?" She jerked the large flannel from his hand and threw it across the room. The first swells of another pain burned any remnants of her restraint. "And tell me, Professor Snape, when was the last time you tried to pass a watermelon through your...mmmmh."

"Now we're getting somewhere," Minerva chuckled.

_Not bloody fast enough_. Hermione released her breath slowly then inhaled in the same rhythm. Just as she'd learned to do in those antenatal classes she'd dragged him to. Classes he didn't complain about attending once. Despite the ratio of muggles to magicals in the room. Nor had he complained when she sent him to the all night market on the edge of Reigate to fetch her current favorite flavor of ice cream less than two hours before he had to get up and get ready to face a full day of dunderheads. And now here he was again. Taking her abuse without the first grumbled scowl. He might have been the one to feel unworthy of her at the beginning of everything, but at this moment in time...

The urge hit her with all the force of the curse Dolohov used the night of the battle at the Ministry of Mysteries. She jerked her head toward her husband, fear pushing her eyes open. "I need to push."

Severus swallowed. "All right, love." He glanced at Minerva. With a nod, she moved to take his place by Hermione's side. Relinquishing his beloved's hand, he moved toward the end of the bed. With a sharp intake of air, he pulled on every ounce of his Occlumency training. He couldn't allow his love for them to affect his focus. There was simply too much at stake. Yet he couldn't separate his soul from the one struggling toward freedom or the one laboring to be free.

h~s~h~s~h

How much time passed was irrelevant. As was the Patronuses sent from Ginerva and Luna to update them on the train's progress toward Hogsmeade Station. For Severus, the world absolutely stood still as he tried and failed to remain detached from his wife's pain and the surge of fear he felt as their child crowned.

"Come on, love," he urged, training taking over and positioning his hands to assist the little one into the world. "Push." He glanced over the sheets at that lovely face he hoped to awaken to for years to come. His heart twisted at the contortion and the silent tears mingling with the perspiration on her cheeks. "Just a little longer, dear one. Now push."

She tethered herself to the strength of his rich baritone. Followed his directives with all the faith she had in this wonderful man who she'd forced back into the world of the living and was eventually thanked by the gift of his love. One more deep breath and she bore down with every ounce of Gryffindor stubbornness the endless hours of laboring allowed.

The pressure grew and built toward a peak more intense than any so far. A pain so forceful there was no descriptor to fit it seemed to want to engulf every cell in her body. Threaten her sanity and consciousness. Still she hung on. Clung to the thread of determination she felt oozing toward her from her beloved's very soul. And pushed until everything faded. The pressure. The pain. All of it was gone and she fell back onto the pillow in relief as the sound of a newborn's cry joined the chiming of the tiny bedside clock as the old year ushered in the new.

Severus stared at the squirming bundle in his hands. Torn between laughter and tears, he did a little of both as he looked at their little miracle then to the woman who made every breath worth taking. "It's a girl, my love." The smile that grew on his witch's lips was more brilliant than the midday sun. "We have a daughter, dear one." He returned his eyes to the small piece of his heart lying in his arms and cleaned the first remnants of birth with his tears. "We have a daughter."


	9. A Lifetime Of Them

CHAPTER NINE

A Lifetime Of Them

By the time the Express arrived at Hogsmeade Station and they were met by a rather fretful Poppy Pomfrey, the tiny newborn was wrapped in warm blankets and was enjoying her first meal at her mother's breast. A thorough examination and a trip to the Hogwarts infirmary was declared unnecessary.

"Their both just fine, Severus." She settled the newborn back into Hermione's arms. "She may be a little early, but she's a good weight. Has a good set of lungs." The old healer tenderly ran her fingers along the fine black hair covering the tiny head. The infant opened her eyes and stared up at the medi-witch in fascination. "Has her father's hair and eyes." Her finger traced the bridge of the perfectly shaped little proboscis. "And her mother's nose." She stood back and smiled. "I'd say she's just the right mixture of Granger and Snape." She thumped Severus on the back. "And we just might make a healer of her father yet."

Severus shook his head as he regained his position on his wife's bed and gathered his family into his arms. "No thank you, Madame. I do believe I'll stick with potions and trying to keep the next bunch of dunderheads from blowing up the castle."

Hermione leaned over and kissed his cheek. "As wonderful as you were, sweetheart, I do believe you are much better suited to the laboratory than the labor room." He held her gaze a minute longer then allowed her to return her focus to the precious bundle in her arms. "Poppy's right," she whispered. "She is perfect. But she is lacking one thing."

He jerked his head toward his daughter, inspecting every inch visible beneath the blanket. "What?" His heart pounded its way into his throat as he gently ran his hand along the little body. "What is she missing? A finger? A toe?"

The young witch who infiltrated his life then invaded his heart chuckled, her hand covering his as he rested it on their daughter's tummy. "A name, Severus. She's lacking a name."

Heat infused his cheeks as he uttered a weak, "Oh." He sighed and nodded. "I suppose she is." He gathered Hermione's hand into his and brought it to his lips as he almost drowned in the glistening golden depths of her eyes. "Any thoughts on the subject, Madame Snape?"

"As a matter of fact...

h~s~h~s~h

Less than three hours old and Baby Snape was already the center of attention. While the other revelers made their way to the castle and a belated midnight meal, Minerva, the young Potters and the young Malfoys gathered in the train's small compartment. Severus' heart threatened to swell beyond the confines of his chest as he gazed at each member of the motley crew. They were, for lack of a better word – and despite his resolve to feel nothing but contempt for the lot of them – his family. Each one had followed the faint thread of emotions Hermione awakened in him and slowly wormed their way into his life. Forced him to respect then to love them as if they were bonded by blood.

"Meet your family, little one," he cooed as he took his daughter from his wife and cradled her to his chest. Clearing his throat, he tried his best to glare at the people surrounding him but failed miserably as the tears drifted down his cheeks.

"She's beautiful," Harry whispered. Both he and Draco were suspiciously dewy eyed, though both of them would undoubtedly deny any existence of soft feelings later. And, to their credit, they weren't the blubbering messes they held in their arms.

Both women were dabbing their eyes with their husbands' proffered handkerchiefs. Incoherent syllables oozed from their lips making Severus fight to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Though he'd held his witch as she dissolved into a leaking mass of emotions, it was different to watch others in such a state. The display still made him so very uncomfortable. Then again… He glanced back at the two young men and saw his own disquiet in their eyes. Perhaps he wasn't alone in the matter.

"What's her name?" Ginerva choked out between silent sobs.

He glanced at his bride and nodded. Her smile gained even more brilliance - if that were possible - as she lost herself for a moment in the depths of his eyes. She touched his cheek, her gaze never wavering as she addressed the others. "She's named for my hero and her grandmother."

"Eileen or Helen?" Minerva asked.

Hermione turned her attention to the woman she trusted and respected almost as much as she did her husband. "Neither." Focusing back on her daughter cradled safely in her daddy's arms, she smoothed a wayward curl. "Her name is Severena. Severena Minerva Snape."

h~s~h~s~h

Although the Express would soon fill with partygoers for the return trip to King's Cross Station, Severus enjoyed the last vestiges of peace with his daughter sleeping on his chest and his wife's head resting on his shoulder. "Happy birthday, little one," he whispered them pressed his lips to the top of the downy head.

"What a way to bring in the New Year," Hermione yawned. "Wouldn't you say so, sweetheart?"

Flashes of past New Year's Eves flickered through his mind. The Death Eater revels he'd had to endure. The fear of losing his soul mate before he ever had a chance to know her as she spent the holiday in some icy tent with her dearest friends. The night Harry and Draco locked them in the broom cupboard and he bared his very soul to her then listened as she bared hers.

"Given our history, love." He pressed his lips to her forehead and tightened his embrace. "I'd say its just another same Auld Lang Syne." She nestled her head beneath his chin and he breathed in the familiar scent of orange blossoms. "And I want a lifetime of them."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _And now we've come to the end of our little tale. I hope you enjoyed it._

_Thank you all for reading. And for those who reviewed and alerted, a great big cyberhug!_

_Now back to my other two stories and the drawing board to develop a few plots the muses were so kind as to deposit in my lap._

_Until next time!_

_The Bard's Daughter_


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